


Taste of Your Breath

by Gamebird



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-30
Updated: 2012-04-30
Packaged: 2017-11-04 14:54:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/395096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gamebird/pseuds/Gamebird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is venting at Sylar. Sylar sucks it up. It's a small vignette without a defined setting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste of Your Breath

**Author's Note:**

> Title: The Taste of your Breath  
> Characters: Sylar, Peter Petrelli  
> Rating: PG  
> Warnings: None  
> Word count: 320  
> Summary: Peter vents. Sylar sucks it up.  
> Notes: Written for heroes_contest 'Breath' challenge.

Breath. He could taste Peter's dancing across his tongue. Sylar had never tasted anything so sensuously intimate. It was a principle element of Peter, a precious gift from him freely given, slipping between Sylar's slightly parted lips to provide the most basic of sustenance. _This_ was the essence of life itself, vibrancy and vigor and vaporous vitae that filled the void between them, creating a nebulous connection spun from ether and an imagination that was surely overactive. Sylar drew in the shared air through his flaring nostrils while he was still able, before Peter choked him too firmly to prevent it. Something that had been within Peter … was now within Sylar. It was so dirty in lewd implication that it made Sylar shiver.

Peter was in his face with hot, moist puffs hitting Sylar's cheeks with every exhalation, the empath's powerful right hand wrapped tightly around the front of Sylar's throat. His fingers dug in slightly, enough to grip and establish control, but he wasn't quite suffocating him - all the better. It let Sylar continue to drink in great lungfuls of this divine elixir, so drunk on the gaseous substance that he hardly heard Peter's angry venting. Every now and then a tiny speck of spittle would hit Sylar's face and he would twitch, trying to suppress the reaction lest Peter catch on.

Sylar knew he ought to be listening to whatever Peter was blowing off about this time, but being submerged in the man's own personal atmosphere was just too damn distracting. He was awash in Peter's very soul here, as the animating force of Peter's existence surged over, around and into Sylar like the waves of the ocean, drawing him in closer with every billowing rush. Peter didn't understand what he did that made Sylar want him so madly. There wasn't much to understand - it was very simple - all he needed to do was breathe.


End file.
